


Drowning

by UnidentifiedPie



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Gen, Joui War, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4163574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnidentifiedPie/pseuds/UnidentifiedPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You force yourself to take in a breath and find that it comes out as a gasp, too damn close to a sob. Fire paints the sky dark red and suddenly all you can think is that you're drowning. (Gintoki, the Joui war, death and drowning.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the Joui war, Gintoki's POV. I don't own Gintama.

You sit beside Akio, cradling him against your chest as he dies, and all you can think is that he is doomed, doomed, doomed, and you could've saved him, if only you'd moved faster. You should have saved him - what the hell are you in this war for, if not to protect your friends? You hold him close and beg him to hang on even though you know he can't be saved; you stare into his wide eyes and remind him that his name means glorious hero, wasn't he always boasting about that when he was a kid? You tell him that you heard it till you were sick of it, and he's a hero now, so what the hell does he think he's doing, dying like this?

Gintoki, he gasps, the word short and desperate; you grit your teeth. You don't know what he wants - even if you did, you know that you probably couldn't give it to him. He coughs hot blood that spills onto your gi to mix with the blood of your enemies, and you bite out a sharp curse.

Hold on, you tell him, as he stares at you with frightened eyes. His hand fumbles weakly and you reach out to catch it - he clings tight, as if his method of holding on is quite literally grabbing onto your hand. He's shaking and his hand is shaking and so are you, you discover, and you bite out another curse as he chokes and blood sprays from his lips.

I'm sorry, you say, shaking hands and shaking voice and terrible selfishness - you should be comforting him, not doing this, but you cannot help it and the apology spills from your lips as you watch your friend die. I'm sorry I didn't save you. I'm so, so sorry.

Akio gags on his own blood and you grip his shoulder so hand your knuckles ache, and you can't even beg him to stay with you as he coughs and coughs and coughs, terrible ragged noises passing his lips as blood sprays across your gi. All you can do is sit and shake and tell him that it's alright, he did good, and when he goes up to heaven you promise that there will be no pain. Blood pours from the ugly wound in his stomach, and ironically the armour has made things worse because the Amanto that did this slammed its claws straight through the armour and the steel now impales him. Your hands are slick and you are shaking and his pulse is weakening against your fingers. He is shaking against you and you try to pull him tighter, try to let him know that he's not alone. Blood so dark that it's almost black is all over his shirt and all over your gi and soaking the ground, and when he hacks out a few more wet coughs it spills from his lips and drips down his chin.

Please, he gasps, and goes limp, eyes wide and staring and accusing, and you reach out a trembling hand to shut them gently. Your mind is a whirlwind of loss and pain and grief and amidst the chaos there's the stupid thought that Akio never got to finish his last words.

Then you stand and cradle his still-warm dead body against your chest, blood soaking your gi and dripping off your fingers. Your hair plasters against your forehead and of course, it's wet with blood. You think about Akio boasting as a kid, bright eyes and brilliant mind and untainted innocence, and now there's ice settled in your gut and something pressing against your lungs so that you can't breathe. You force yourself to take in a breath and find that it comes out as a gasp, too damn close to a sob. Fire paints the sky dark red and suddenly all you can think is that you're drowning. Blood soaks you and death drags you down and the cold ice of horror has invaded your bones. You are going numb and you can't breathe and isn't this what drowning is? Being overwhelmed and unable to breathe as cold settles in your bones and liquid soaks you, and after you've struggled for so long you run out of oxygen and you cannot even fight? Isn't this what drowning is - crushing, overpowering water pressing against your body, and though you need to breathe there isn't a thing you can do to draw air? The only difference right now is that you're drowning in blood and pain and loss and guilt rather than water, but any of these things works just as well and altogether they are drowning you more effectively than any water ever could.

He was your classmate. Quite a few of the buried men were. Blood trickles through your fingers and down your forearms and your breath hitches. You could have saved him. You should have saved him. Guilt crushes you. Why didn't you save him?

So many deaths. The weight of the dead bodies and their glassy, empty stares weighs on your shoulders and you don't have the strength to lift them up.

I'm drowning, you think. You are drowning and Zura is drowning and so is Shinsuke - all three of you are drowning and so is Sakamoto and everyone else fighting in this trice-damned war.

The sky is dark red and blood soaks your gi, and as maroon liquid drops from your fingers you stand and struggle to breathe in an ocean of blood.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Thanks for reading and God bless.


End file.
